


Forever Hopeful

by loves_books



Series: Forever Changed [3]
Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the clock nears midnight on his birthday, Face tries to remind himself that he really didn't expect to hear from Hannibal, who is on a mission with the team. That doesn't make it easier, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Hopeful

As the clock ticked slowly on towards midnight, Face sighed as he stretched on the sofa, and reminded himself again that it didn’t really matter. It had been foolish of him to hope – Hannibal hadn’t made him any promises at all, hadn’t even mentioned the possibility in fact, and yet still Face had wondered if his lover would find a way to call him. Just to say ‘happy birthday’.

But as far as Face knew, Hannibal and his team were somewhere in the north of Pakistan, or possibly they had crossed back over the border into Afghanistan by now. Intel on their mission and location was sketchy, which was SOP for the Alpha Units of course, and Face had been given no reason to expect any contact from Hannibal or the guys for at least another four weeks. But still, he’d hoped.

Hannibal had last been back in the States almost two months ago, and Face missed him desperately, just as he always did and always would. Their long distance relationship was still working well enough, after more than two years, but Face knew he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish Hannibal would transfer back to Benning on a more permanent basis. Their time apart was getting harder to cope with, no matter how much he threw himself into his work. No matter how important he knew Hannibal’s own work was.

They’d had three wonderful weeks together the last time Hannibal had managed to take leave, one week working on base and two at a beach villa in Miami. The timing had been perfect – Hannibal had been present as witness when Face finally received his promotion to Captain. After so many long and happy years as a Lieutenant, Face had been surprised by the fierce pride he’d felt when he found out he’d been promoted, and having his lover there was more than he had ever dared to dream of.

After the ceremony and the celebration that lasted into the early hours of the morning, Hannibal had swept Face away for a well-deserved holiday, just the two of them, and for once it hadn’t been interrupted by an urgent recall to duty for either of them. Christmas last year had been ruined when Hannibal’s Alpha Unit had been deployed on short notice, and the previous Thanksgiving had seen Face stuck in the office working on a time-sensitive project while Hannibal waited for him back at their home.

Hannibal had surprised him in the past with last-minute visits and unexpected phone calls, but today Face hadn’t had any at all reason to hope Hannibal would be there, in fact he’d known for definite that there was no way for the colonel to get back to Benning in person. That hadn’t stopped him hoping the phone might ring, though. It was his birthday – for another twelve minutes at least, Face thought with another sigh – and this would be the first time in almost twenty years that he’d had no contact at all with Hannibal on this day.

It wasn’t really his birthday, of course. No one knew the actual date on which he’d been born, but officially his birth date was listed as the day he’d been found on the orphanage steps. That was the date on all his Army paperwork, and the teams he now worked with in both Intel and Logistics had thrown him a huge party earlier in the year. Face had smiled on cue, downed a couple of beers, all the while preparing to make a quiet exit – he’d never liked celebrating the day he’d been abandoned, but he had truly appreciated the thought behind the party. To his surprise, just as he thought he could slip away without appearing rude, Hannibal, Murdock, BA and Read had all burst through the door, kitbags slung over their shoulders and clearly fresh off a plane. 

Today wasn’t Face’s official birthday, no, but it was the birthday Hannibal had chosen for him, back when Face was an angry eighteen year old still trying to find his place in the Army. It was the birthday Face cherished and celebrated quietly, because someone had cared enough about him, even all those years ago, to see how unhappy he was, and how much he had longed to fit in somewhere. As his relationship with Hannibal had grown stronger over the years, he’d only cherished it more. Hannibal had always made this day special, but this year he wasn’t there. Couldn’t be there.

He hadn’t wanted to celebrate, not alone, not unless Hannibal and the guys were with him. His new colleagues and friends didn’t know today had been anything more than just another regular day, mainly because Face hadn’t told them, but he’d been asked out for the evening anyway – a group of the younger guys were heading to a new club they’d heard good things about, and Major Cartwright had reminded him about a quiz night being held in the Officer’s Mess. On any other night Face would probably have gone along with one or the other, but not that night. Not on his birthday.

So Face had stayed home tonight, in the house he and Hannibal owned together. He’d cooked himself a simple dinner, just pasta with pesto and tomatoes, before taking a long shower. He’d left his prosthetic leg off for comfort and settled himself on the sofa, soft music playing quietly in the background while he buried himself in a book, the phone close at hand. Just in case.

There was no way Hannibal could be there, but there was an outside possibility that he could get to a phone. Just a teeny tiny chance, not worth getting worked up about, but still…

He wasn’t sulking, or moping, Face had told himself firmly. He just didn’t want to be with other people, to pretend everything was normal when it wasn’t. He’d wanted to sit and think, to think about Hannibal and how much he loved him. A part of him imagined Hannibal was thinking about him too, but at the same time Face really hoped his lover was keeping his mind firmly on his mission. Distractions could be very costly in the Rangers, after all.

Giving up on the idea of reading, Face placed his book on the coffee table in front of him and stretched his arms high above his head, letting his gaze drift to the framed photos siting in pride of place over the fireplace. The most recent addition was from his promotion ceremony, him and Hannibal standing side by side in their dress uniforms, both of them grinning like idiots. Face smiled now, remembering how his lover’s eyes had shone brightly with pride as he offered the new Captain Peck a salute after the formal ceremony was over, before pulling him into a kiss. 

There were other photos of the two of them together, and separately, alongside ones with BA and Murdock, and Hannibal’s new team in the desert where they spent so much of their time. There were photos of Mama B, whom Face had last spoken to only a few days ago, and of friends in the Rangers and scattered around the world. Seeing them all there, Face couldn’t help but smile. He’d never expected to find his life so filled with friends and family, and he’d certainly never thought he’d earn the love of a man as wonderful as John ‘Hannibal’ Smith.

The clock on the mantelpiece ticked past midnight as Face watched, and it was over. He’d known it was a foolish, stupid hope with no basis at all in possibility – Hannibal had spoken to him last week before leaving the FOB and had lovingly wished him a ‘happy birthday’ before hanging up, and Face had also received a beautiful handwritten letter from the older man in the post just that morning. The postmark had been from Chicago, which suggested Hannibal had trusted the team’s Mama to post it on time for him. He hadn’t been forgotten, not in the slightest, and he knew just how lucky he was.

Slowly, steadily, Face climbed up from the sofa. With a click of the remote, the CD shut itself off, and in the resulting silence he leaned carefully over to grab the single crutch he’d kept close at hand, tucking it under his shoulder. He didn’t often take off his leg until he was getting ready for bed, but he’d felt like stretching out tonight, as much as he could at least. Feeling the stump of his leg against the soft sofa cushions was a reminder of everything he’d been through – not that he really needed a reminder as he lived with the reality of only having one leg each and every day – and a reminder of what had finally brought him and Hannibal together.

No regrets, still, over what had happened. He’d survived a devastating injury in the line of duty, when he really should have been killed, and he’d fought his way through the long and gruelling rehab to somehow find himself in Hannibal’s arms and in his bed. Losing one leg had been a small price to pay for being alive and in love, and for being loved in return. 

Now, Face hopped carefully around his home, leaning heavily on the crutch, checking the doors were locked and everything was shut down for the night. He headed through to the bedroom, keeping the lights off as he slid between the sheets, not seeing any good reason to change out of the shorts and vest he’d slipped on after his earlier shower. Finally, he placed the phone on the bedside table – he hadn’t realised until that moment that he’d carried it through with him from the living room, clutched tightly in his hand the whole time – though he knew in his heart it would stay silent through the night now.

“Stay safe, John,” Face whispered into the darkness as he let his head sink into the cool pillows at last, curling up on his side and pulling one pillow into his chest. “I love you.” He imagined Hannibal murmuring those same words to him in return, imagined a warm kiss being pressed to his forehead, imagined strong arms wrapped around him, and closed his eyes against the sudden sting of threatening tears.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing Face knew there was a loud ringing sound pulling him out of his dreams. Groggy and confused, he fumbled his way up to a sitting position, half thinking he must have been dreaming, but that ringing had followed him into the grey pre-dawn reality that was his bedroom. 

Still, it took Face a moment to realise it was his telephone ringing. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he reached over to snatch it up from the bedside table, coughing slightly to clear his throat. “Captain Peck,” he grumbled, lifting it to his ear almost reluctantly – his work generally didn’t involve urgent phone calls before the sun was even up, but he did have one or two particularly sensitive projects underway at the moment which could well justify a wake-up call in the mind of a nervous junior officer. “Hello?”

Nothing but static for a long moment, the line crackling badly, and Face frowned, trying to listen through the hiss and pop. Nothing intelligible, nothing that made any sense. Something that might have been a voice, or just a random noise on the line.

“Hello?” he tried again, raising his voice a fraction. “Anyone there?”

And just when he was about to hang up and bury himself back in his lonely bed for another couple of hours sleep, he suddenly heard it. “…Face? You there?... Face, can you…?”

The line faded out to static again, but Face would have known that voice anywhere. Heart suddenly racing, he pulled the phone even closer to his ear, praying desperately that the line hadn’t gone before he had a chance to speak to the man he loved. “Hannibal, I’m here! Can you hear me?” He knew he was shouting now, but he didn’t care. “Hannibal?”

Mercifully, the static suddenly faded, and Face could have cried as his lover spoke again, voice coming through clear and strong now. “I can hear you, kid, thank goodness! I don’t have long, but I had to call.”

“It’s so good to hear from you!” Another hiss of static, just a second or two, though it was enough to make Face’s heart skip a beat. “Hannibal?”

“…I’m here, Face, I’m here. I’m sorry I’m late, but I couldn’t… yesterday, there wasn’t…”

“Hannibal?”

Even with the underlying static Face could hear the genuine emotion in his lover’s next words. “I just wanted to say ‘happy birthday, baby’, and to tell you that I love you.”

He could have sobbed with joy, but somehow Face managed to reply, “I love you too, Hannibal, more than anything.” The static started to build again, and he knew their time was short. “Be safe, John. Keep your head in the game. And come home to me soon.”

“I have to go, we have to – ” Abruptly, the line went dead. No static, no hissing or popping, just a dial tone, but Face found himself smiling even as a few tears slid down his cheeks. He should have known Hannibal would find a way, against all the odds. A little late perhaps, but Hannibal always found a way.

Face cradled the phone to his chest as he slid slowly back down into the bed, rolling onto his back and hissing slightly as the damaged muscles in his stump went into spasm at the motion. Massaging the remains of his leg carefully with his free hand, he closed his eyes and focussed on the amazing gift Hannibal had just given him – already, the brief call had taken on the quality of a dream, but it was a dream he would keep close until Hannibal returned, hopefully, in a month’s time.

As the spasm eased, Face felt sleep calling to him once more, the phone still clutched tightly above his heart. Someday Hannibal would be back with him for good, but for now, this was more than enough, more than he ever thought he would have. The man he loved had worked miracles just as he always did, and Face drifted back to sleep with a smile on his face, ready to wait as long as it took for Hannibal to return to him next, hoping it would be sooner rather than later.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a birthday gift for Panda77777


End file.
